


of destinies

by NaomiLeyers



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Vengeance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Mira Lives, POV Mira, because being in Mira's head is difficult at times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:28:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29928618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaomiLeyers/pseuds/NaomiLeyers
Summary: Saxa kisses her.Mira isn't particularly sure why exactly or when it happens, really, but she is all too aware of Saxa kissing her, in the middle of the rebels, with everyone staring at them and clapping and it is – new.in which there are kisses, plans to overthrow the Republic, emotions and some more kisses and Mira gets all the good things she deserves
Relationships: Mira & Spartacus, Mira/Saxa
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	of destinies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RenLuthor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenLuthor/gifts).



> the prompt was Mira/Saxa post-kiss make out session, then it developed a plot… and possibly some more making out… plus there is no Roman attack just now and I like happy endings <3  
> as always, nothing belongs to me except the making out and plot, all characters belong to Steven deKnight and the starz, all mistakes are my own and I hope this finds you all well <3

Saxa kisses her.

Mira isn't particularly sure why exactly or when it happens, really, but she is all too aware of Saxa kissing her, in the middle of the rebels, with everyone staring at them and clapping and it is – new.

Not unwelcome, not that at all, really, but it is certainly new.

Mira isn't used to people kissing her openly. Kissing her, sure, behind the silky curtains of noblemen Lucretia sent her to and in darkness of Spartacus's rooms when the shadows were dark enough for Spartacus to pretend it is his dead wife he is kissing (and Mira isn't stupid enough to think it isn't just as sick as what those Romans did to her, albeit in a much less disgusting way), but being kissed in front of people is not an experience Mira has.

She kisses back, surprised but enthusiastic and Saxa lets her touch linger on her face for a few seconds even after she breaks the kiss.

-

“Do you kiss many people like that?” Mira asks quietly instead of greeting when she walks into a secluded room in Lucius’s temple, making Saxa turn around sharply, with a hand on a dagger and it is stupid, so stupid, she didn’t want to startle her and she definitely doesn’t want her to lose interest if there is any, but she _needs_ to know.

Saxa relaxes when she realizes it is only Mira and Mira forces herself not to feel insulted by that. The German smiles as her, warm and wild and free and all those things Mira isn't and can never be.

“Many is such a strong word,” she says, the accent heavy in her voice.

“That’s not an answer,” Mira answers, making Saxa’s smile turn sharper.

“No,” she agrees. “It isn't. Does it matter, though?”

It shouldn’t, most probably. It does.

“I’d like to know,” Mira mutters. “I mean. I got kissed a lot, but never like that. I’d like to know if-“

“If you are special?” Saxa finishes, licking her lips and Mira swallows, her eyes drawn to the other woman’s lips. “I kissed my fair share of people. I never kissed anyone who I didn’t want kiss. And there weren’t that many that I would want to kiss as much as I wanted to kiss you.”

“Oh,” Mira says, eloquently.

Saxa laughs at that, warm and not mocking. Just amused, in a way Mira has never had a chance to learn and it is a sharp reminder of how different they are. Mira has never had a chance to do many things before. She hates the idea of not being able to do something now.

“Did I cross a line?” Saxa asks her suddenly, her voice gentle and concerned and genuine, as if she really cares, as if she doesn’t know about the things Mira has done. It comes to her, she doesn’t. Saxa has never been in Republic before, she has never been a slave, has never experienced the utter lack of power over herself, not for real, not for longer than a few days. Mira kind of wants to hate her for it, except that it seems rather clear by now, she can’t. If she could, she wouldn’t have come here. And, the truth is, Mira wants this. She doesn’t want to live through Saxa, she wants Saxa to teach her how to live.

“You didn’t,” she finds herself saying. “Not really. But you must understand, I am not-“

“Mira,” Saxa interrupts her, commanding and not at all. “I don’t care,” she says, as if she knows exactly what Mira was going to say and Mira wants to kiss her again and then she realizes, she _can_ and so she crosses the distance between them, slowly enough, that Saxa could stop her if she wanted to and she kisses her on the mouth. Saxa kisses back, unafraid and sure and wild, a storm right under Mira’s fingertips and lips, kissing her with confidence of someone who has never had to feel ashamed. Mira wants to lose herself in that storm. She thinks, she might be finding herself there, too.

Despite all her expertise, Mira has never touched a woman intimately before. It’s different from touching a man, softer somehow, even though she doubts Saxa would like that description, with breasts and hips touching, with Saxa’s long hair tickling Mira’s skin.

She feels right.

She feels fucking amazing and Mira isn't sure how it came to happen or why, but she isn't going to question it and so she parts her lips under Saxa's ministrations, digging her fingers into Saxa's hips and only pulling back when she absolutely and inevitably needs to breathe and Saxa lets her but she wastes no time, her fingers dancing on Mira's body, creating sparks of pleasure.

“I want you,” Saxa whispers, her lips sucking a bruise into Mira’s neck now and Mira thinks she should protest, she doesn’t like being marked, normally, but there is nothing normal about Saxa and Mira cherishes that, lost in sensations and passion and more than willing to listen to that part of her brain that won’t stop scream _want, want, want_.

“I want you,” she admits, softly and it seems that Saxa has been waiting for her to say that, because she tears at Mira’s dress the moment she says that, opening the complicated tie and letting the dress pool on the floor and Mira should feel exposed, but there isn't anything in Saxa’s eyes but wonder and passion and care and she sure as hell doesn’t mind seeing that.

“Beautiful,” Saxa murmurs into her collarbone and Mira shakes her head automatically, she _isn't_ , she has never been, she is too used and too ordinary and not beautiful enough for anyone to ever say _that_. Not beautiful enough for anyone to stay.

Saxa pulls back at that, something wild in her eyes and she tangles her fingers in Mira’s hair, pulling, but not sharply, until Mira looks at her.

“You are beautiful,” Saxa tells her, punctuating every word with a kiss and then, before Mira can start feeling less overwhelmed and more uncomfortable, she shifts her attention back to Mira’s collarbone, fingers of her right hand staying in Mira’s hair, but her left hand slides down her neck to her nipple and Mira doesn’t even try to stifle a moan.

“Mira?”

Spartacus’s voice is soft and gentle so absolutely unwelcome that Mira almost laughs. She doesn’t, mostly because Saxa presses a hand to her mouth, pressing Mira further to the dark corner and shielding her with her body.

“Maybe he will leave,” Saxa whispers and Mira shudders.

“Mira? Are you here?”

“Or maybe he won’t. Maybe he finds us,” Saxa continues, her lips barely touching the shell of Mira’s ear, her hand still pressing against Mira’s mouth and good thing that because Mira would be moaning out loud if she didn’t. “Would you like it? Bet he never made you feel so good. He could learn.”

And oh, gods, Mira likes it, not the possibility of it happening for real, not that, never that, she has had enough of _that_ for the rest of her life, but the idea is certainly arousing. Still, she forces Saxa’s hand away from her mouth (and it feels comforting, the way Saxa immediately lets go).

“Coming,” she shouts and Saxa winces a little as they are pressed together and she hasn’t been expecting it.

“You could’ve been,” Saxa murmurs and Mira laughs silently at the innuendo. “You will find me, when he stops being demanding, right?” she asks then and if Mira had any lingering doubts about this, about Saxa wanting her, they suddenly disappear at the sound of a small shade of uncertainty, first sign of it that Saxa has shown since they first met.

“I will,” she promises, ignoring the sudden spike of passion as she drops to her knees in front of Saxa to pull her dress back up.

“Good,” Saxa murmurs, pressing last, lingering kiss to Mira’s shoulder. “I will be waiting.”


End file.
